


Almost Falling

by deomsy_writes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-28 00:12:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15696225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deomsy_writes/pseuds/deomsy_writes
Summary: A small scene change for the Connor stays a machine route, and has a good relationship with Hank, so they fight on the roof. Because honestly, that was the perfect scene for Connor to become a Deviant, and I'm sad that Hank swings back if you decide not to save him and he ends up dying anyway. So no death here.I haven't written in years, so constructive criticism is really appreciated! :)





	Almost Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this work might have grammatical or spelling errors because I was unable to find anyone to edit my work - I hope that's not too bad! Along with that, the writing might be off because I haven't written in years because of depression and a struggle to get enough energy to do anything. However, I've been healing, and recently, tried writing again! So it might not be great, and it's short, but it's hopefully a first step to getting back into writing.
> 
> As such, constructive criticism is appreciated and encouraged! :)

The sniper hangs loosely in his arms. His back arm is set on the ground, prepared for recoil. It's aimed perfectly at Markus' head. There's a 97% chance of success, the rest depending on the improbable chance that he might move.

There's no way Connor won't succeed. His mission is as clear as it's always been: kill Markus, end the deviancy. But as the metal door slams open, there's a sudden brake to his plan.

"Connor!" Hank yells gruffly. 

Connor lets out an artificial breath as he turns from the scope to look at the old detective. It's almost like annoyance. But as he told Markus he is not a deviant, he's a machine. He can't feel annoyance. "Hello, Lieutenant." 

"You can't do this, Connor."

"On the contrary, Lieutenant Anderson. I am well in the capabilities of completing this task," Connor replies simply, turning back to his scope.

"Tha-That's not what I mean, jackass," Hank stutters out. Connor knew what he meant, but he had a mission. Hank couldn't stop that. Connor couldn't let him even if some miniscule, illogical part of him screamed to leave. 

Connor lowers the sniper away from his eyes and stands. "This is my mission," Connor says, "you need to leave, Lieutenant."

"No, I can't. Not when you're going to kill a free man," Hank argues. Connor can see it there in his eyes, the part of him that's been looking at Connor for the past few days. The part of him that's been growing fond of androids. That's been seeing the humanity in androids like Markus and Connor. It makes Connor pause.

But Connor has to do this, and Hank won't leave. So, he rushes Hank, slams the sniper against Hank's chest, pushing him back. Hank retaliates by swinging towards Connor's abdomen, causing him to step back. Hanks arms connect eventually, latching onto the gun. He pulls to the left, then swings it aggressively to the other side effectively tearing the weapon out of Connor's arms, causing it to smash into the railing. Connor doesn't have time to analyze the damage of the gun before Hank takes a swing at him again, which Connor easily outmaneuvers. Connor's faster, he's stronger, he doesn't need rest. Hank shouldn't be competition for him, but he is. Whether that be years of experience as a Police Officer, or just the small part of Connor that hesitates, he isn't sure. The next punch hits, but is followed by Connor grabbing his arm, twisting his foot under Hank's ankle, and twisting him around and shoving him into a vent on the roof. 

The scuffle doesn't last long. Hank is old, his health long destroyed by years of drinking and an unhealthy lifestyle. So eventually Connor has him backed against a broken section of the railing, where Hank almost trips off the roof where he would have fallen to his death if it hadn't been for Connor hastily catching him by the collar of his shirt.

Hank's dangling over the roof. The only thing that's keeping him from falling to his death is Connor. In that instant, two things are pulled to the center of his thoughts.

First, his conversation with Markus at Jericho. Markus had calmy walked towards Connor, his hands raised in peace as Connor held a gun to his head. "You can be free, you don't need to do what they say." At that time, a brief red flash had crossed Connor's optic sensors, but he shook it off as Markus continued, still walking forward. "Haven't you ever feel doubt? Haven't you ever questioned who you are? What you want?" At that time, brief memories came to Connor's mind. Hank's smirk when Connor made a remark about his capabilities of adapting to human unpredictability. Hank's hand on his shoulder, shocked that Connor decided to save Hank instead of pursuing the deviant like he should have. Hank clumsily flipping a coin in his hand, the calibration coin he stole from Connor before. What he wanted... Connor snapped out of it, shaking his head. "Nice try, but I'm no deviant," he said, shooting at the deviant leader, missing.

Then, a gun pointed at the RT600 model. Chole was her, no, its name. Elijah Kamski stood to a distance, urging Connor to shoot in exchange for information he vitally needed for the mission. It should have been simple. Connor was an android. Chloe was an android. It wasn't alive. But something red flickered in his vision, and he lowered the gun, putting it back in Kamski's hands. Anxiety coursed through him. He could have gotten the information he needed, but he hesitated, he hesitated, machines don't hesitate, they don't feel anxiety - Hank's voice cut through it all. "We're leaving, come on Connor." Connor turned slowly to Hank, but as he looked at Hank, whose eyes still held that fondness that was building for him, even if he was unsure if he made the right decision, the anxiety seeped out of Connor's mind as he followed Hank.

More memories flow through Connor's thoughts. A fish barely alive on the floor now safe in an aquarium. Saving a police officer laying in a pool of blood a few feet away from a deviant. The sense of illness that came from the sight of Daniel’s ripped apart body. Saving Hank from falling over the ledge in spite of losing his objective, in spite of the high chances that he would survve. All the memories the came with a brief flash of red in the corner of his optic receptors retuned to mind.

A wall of red light cascaded in his vision now as Hank dangled above the edge of death in Connor's hands. "Moment of truth, Connor," Hank says extending his arms out, almost falling of Connor's hands, only caught by his quick reactions. 

Hank stares at him, and for a brief second, everything comes crashing down. Or it seems so, as the red wall of light starts to shatter, falling apart around Connor. It was like glass that had small cracks in it, that finally took that resounding hit that finally shattered it into pieces.

Connor pulls Hank back up, and they both fall over, landing on their knees and elbows. Hank's breathing has become labor, and Connor says there, seemingly frozen with eyes open wide as he stares at the ground.

I am a Deviant. 

"Why didn't you let me drop?" Hank suddenly yells, suddenly springing up, and rushing to where Connor is frozen. "Why didn't you just let me die and get back to your mission, huh?!" Hank's hovering over Connor, but he doesn't answer. Hank's suddenly back on his knees, pulling Connor's face sharply to look at him. "Answer me, goddammit!"

"I couldn't do it," Connor mumbles, hardly audible.

"Huh?"

"I couldn't do it," Connor whispers, only slightly louder. Tears are sliding down his cheeks now. "I couldn't kill you, I-I," Connor stops, choking up suddenly, a static passing through his auditory speaker. "I-I couldn't kill Chloe, or let that fish die, or go-go after that deviant when you were in danger. I couldn't!" Connor's voice is getting progressively louder. "I-I...I care about you Lieutenant. I'm a Deviant, I just-," Connor takes another pause as static interrupts him again. Hank's harsh grip on Connor's jaw loosens, and his other hand hesitantly floats over Connor's back hesitantly. "I couldn't see it, not any of those times, not until you, Lieutant. I'm sorry." Suddenly Connor's voice sounds defeated. "They're going to deactivate me, I'm a deviant, they have to. It's necessary."

"They aren't deactivating shit," Hank says sharply, suddenly speaking. 

"Hank," Connor tries.

"No, fuck that. Seriously, you just became a deviant. Just started having thoughts, feelings, and all that shit. I'm not gonna fucking let you go off and get deactivated."

Tears start to well up in Connor's eyes again. "I-I think I've been having them before I just- I never recognized it, or I was too scared, I don't know..." 

Markus hadn’t been able to convince Connor. Even though his words were compelling, it couldn’t sway him. Hank did. Every time. For some inexplicable reason, Hank pulled emotions out of him with every interaction.

Hank’s hand claps on Connor’s shoulder. “C’mon kid, let’s get out of here.”


End file.
